


Desirable Sins

by Artistado



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistado/pseuds/Artistado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. One-Shot. A demon's lust for power and control is hard to sate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desirable Sins

Hell was hot; it always had been. That is why it was one of the least inhabitable places known to man who believed in the faith that was shoved down their throats from the time they were born until the day they died without accomplishing anything. That was the essence of what was human mortality. Humans lived and died in the blink of an eye, their existence wiped completely from the face of the universe; their time spent alive wasted.

Human life was a joke; it had no purpose. Most humans ended up here in Hell in the end of their journey, committing a sin against all humanity. The rules that God had set for man to follow broken without a second guess. But, this is how humans were; selfish by nature, taking and never giving back, despite what they did. This is why the devils existed. They were there as something to be feared by man, and to torture the souls of the damned. The greatest sin against humanity, though, was the tryst between human and demon, and the offspring that resulted of such an unholy union.

These children, these half-breeds, were shunned by both man and demon alike; they were neither one or the other, and neither would accept something so vile. The children were forced to live in Hell, the offspring hidden from the demonic world. Hell was vast, and it was hard to find something, even when looking for it. So, the children hid, needing to preserve their lives. Even after their father died, the thoughts to remain protected never wavered; until one day.

It had just been a normal day, or as normal as a day for two half demons could be. They were always alert, and always had what was given to them as a gift from their departed father. It was times like this that people realized life wasn’t fair; it was anything but. Life liked to screw with people, kicking them when they were down and vulnerable. It never treated anyone kindly; never favoring one person over another. And life always ended the same for every living creature, just to add to the cruelty that was a living Hell.

After years of living, people longed for change; or at the very least, acceptance. It was no different for the children made from sin. They only had each other, being left alone in the world, but hiding wouldn’t help their disposition either. They had to move, to make something of themselves: They needed to prove that they were just as good as either humans or demons, and that they were superior. Power. They needed power. Power was the only thing that both humans and demons reacted to, it was the main thing that dictated their lives. Power controlled everything.

And the world faded to black, the foundation of Hell ripped right from under the Lord’s feet.

\--

“Power, dear brother. Power is what controls everything. Power can give you everything. It’s time to accept the power, or die!” A voice spilled out over the area, shattering the relative silence that had gained control of the area. Hell was unnaturally silent for some reason, but silence had more meanings than those presented.

“Power isn’t the only thing Vergil!” Another voice responded, the name slipping past the pale lips without notice. There was a mild malice in the sound, but it wasn’t true hatred. How could you hate the only person who really understood you, and had been there to support you for so long? His brother was possessed; he was sure of it now. Just by the way he was acting, he could tell something was off.

The sound of boots hitting solid stone was his only response. Slowly, the near mirror reflection of himself stepped forward, the clothed arm reaching for the scabbard that was held in his left hand. The slender digits wrapped around the handle, unsheathing the gleaming katana from its protection. They might have been twins, but the differences in them were immense; identical or not, they were complete opposites. One accepted the demonic heritage and tried to become more. The other one, though, accepted the human half, never embracing the demon blood his father had bestowed upon them.

He couldn’t give into his twin’s advances. He had to stand and fight, he had something to prove. Though, only one would be victorious in the end, but that was fate playing its hand into matters that only it could. Destiny had a funny way of working, and the term was thrown around so blatantly, it was almost disconcerting.

In a swift motion, the half-demon moved a hand back, grabbing onto the handle of his large metal sword. The minuscule light that managed to penetrate this far into Hell reflected off the blade, offering a little more light, but not enough for an untrained eye.

A flash of red, a flash of blue. Two bodies met, the loud sound of metal slamming into metal rang out, sparks flying from the meeting. “It’s not over, Dante. Soon, I will make you see why power is everything.” The one called Vergil said, a smirk resting on his lips. He seemed pretty proud of himself, but he had the upper hand. They both knew it, but that didn’t stop Dante; he had to do this. Not only for himself, but for what he had come to believe.

In a swift, nearly unseen motion, Vergil knocked the other back with ease. The demonic power added to that inhuman strength. Strength gained through a meeting with a demon. Dante knew his brother had made a pact with a demon somewhere in the expanses of Hell. He knew it immediately. They were twins, after all. Catching his balance, he stood up, holding the sword he had received from his father. Rebellion. The only thing that his father had given him that he appreciated at the moment.

Was this how all brothers acted? One could only guess, considering they never had the ability to observe other families in their natural habitats. Standing upright, Dante moved a hand up, running it through his silver hair, the bangs falling into the piercing icy blue orbs. He glared at his reflection, and watched the way his brother moved, the blue clothing and coat moving in sync with his actions. He had been trained, and trained hard. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be…

Vergil moved his katana through the negative space around them, supersonic blades emerging from the blade itself, cutting through the air. The invisible blades slammed into Dante’s body, cutting his red coat, and the exposed chest. That warm, red, sticky elixir of life started to seep from the wound that the blades had inflicted on him. It all happened so fast.

He raised his blade in an attempt to block an oncoming attack, but the effort was in vain; the attack hit its mark, knocking the swordsman back with ease. The half-demon flew back, the ground ripped from under his feet, his body soaring. Hitting a jagged wall, his body arched from the pain that suddenly assaulted his being, and he fell hard onto the ground. The half-demon panted, placing his hands against the ground. He tried to push himself up, hearing the sounds of boots coming closer.

Out of the top of his vision, he saw his ‘beloved’ brother knelt down in front of him, the sound of cloth moving hit him. He felt a sudden pain in his skull when the back of his head was grabbed, his hair yanked up, forcing his head up. Slanting his eyes, he stared his twin down even from his pathetic position. A man still had his pride, regardless of how deep they were in a hole.

“Please excuse my rudeness, dear brother. You should listen to your brother.” Vergil offered, grabbing and pulling harder. It hurt, it hurt like hell, for lack of a better word. It felt like his scalp was getting ripped from his flesh. Dante only clenched his teeth, grinning and baring it. When that was all that was offered to you, you did it.

“Really? Why don’t you give me a good reason as to why I should.” He spat, his voice like a hiss. He didn’t appreciate what his brother had become; it actually saddened him. Vergil had just up and disappeared one day, no warning, no nothing. Dante was left alone. He hadn’t seen his twin in years, and when they met, this is what happened. It wasn’t very heartwarming, and maybe a little upsetting. They weren’t full demons; they felt emotion, but Vergil pretended he didn’t. He hated the emotions he was allowed to have, even though Dante accepted them.

Grabbing the handle to Rebellion, Dante swung it with the most strength he could muster from his current disposition, hitting his brother hard in the side. His hair was released, taking that moment to regain his composure. Standing up, he watched Vergil with intense eyes, not letting his brother out of his sight. He had to be alert, it was absolutely necessary to make it through.

He really just wanted this battle to end. His brother had been training, so he knew that Vergil would outlast him in a fight of stamina. That didn’t exactly mean that Dante was ready to give up, though. No, it was far from that. He only wanted his twin to understand; to see things from a different angle, which he was sure that was all Vergil wanted for him too.

Dante couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to his brother in their time apart. He had known that eventually, they would go their own separate ways, but for Vergil to come back, that was something surprising in itself.

After awhile, the world blurred, everything going in a revolving cycle. Attacks thrown, blocked, rebounds. Blood shot everywhere as the bloody battle ensued, each twin trying in vain to up hand the other; to prove they were superior. They both seemed to fail in this attempt, but each gave it their all. Until… one fatal mistake ended it all. This is why people were to never overstep their boundaries.

Dante moved, but his boot slipped on the blood that rested around him, leaving him open. Vergil took the opportunity, and attacked, finishing it. He moved with such speed and precision, it was over before Dante could even breathe. His body was assaulted many times by the katana, Yamato, before he even hit the ground.

The ground below him was cold, unforgiving. It sent a cold chill up his spine, freezing him to the marrow. That one slip up would cost him his life. This was the proof: The proof that life was unjust, and just longing to ruin everything someone had worked so hard for. Dante laid on the ground, bleeding out onto the unfeeling stone below him, his sword clanking to the ground beside him. He couldn’t give up yet… Not yet.

Utilizing what little strength still remained in his worn, exhausted body, the half-demon tried to force himself to get up. Grabbing his sword, he slammed it into the ground, using it to hold that heavy body of his. Looking to his twin, his mirror reflection, he somehow found the strength for one last confrontation.

Adrenaline moved, coursing through his veins, sending a rush of energy flowing through him. He was tired and bleeding from more areas than he cared to acknowledge. For the moment, he couldn’t give into his mortality, his weakness. Staring his brother down as best he could, he pulled the tip of his trusty blade from the stone ground. Holding the heavy metal with his depleting strength, he charged forward, blade pointed forward. He aimed for his brother’s chest, it was closing in, his hues keeping the target in sight.

Blood started to emerge from his mouth, Rebellion falling from his hands and hitting the stone below him. The resounding clank rang out through the cavernous expanse, the sound echoing for miles out of earshot. A cough erupted from his throat, more blood leaking past his lips, and dripping down his chin. It took a moment for Dante’s brain to register what had just happened. He charged at Vergil, Vergil moved and somehow dodged his forward attack, then stabbed him in the upper abdomen.

Moving a hand, he grabbed onto the blade inside of his body, glaring at his brother. It hurt, the wound was on fire. It begged for treatment, or release from the biting katana blade. Vergil twisted the blade inside of him, before thrusting his arm to the side, ripping Dante’s side open. Blood exploded from the wound, the half demon falling forward onto his knees. A hand moved to his side, before he fell on the ground completely, his consciousness fading to black. Well, this blew; fate was cruel, and time waited for no man.

Taking the blade, Vergil shook it off, the blood moving and falling from the katana’s polished surface. Dripping onto the cold stone ground, the sound the blood made was nearly inaudible above the minute sounds that expanded across the cavern that surrounded the twins. Vergil looked to his fallen brother, almost saddened by how easily the half-demon had gone down.

Too bad it wasn’t really over. If things were that easy, then life wouldn’t have a meaning to be hard or enjoyable. The meaning of life was to struggle through its challenges, and to prove that you could do something. That was why life was hard; why it was difficult. A pulse. The clear sound of a pulse attacked the downed half-demon’s senses, ringing clear in his head. It was the only thing he could hear, the only thing he could honestly focus on.

A strange sound hit the still air around the twins, the cold dark eyes on the skull of Rebellion suddenly blazed with life. A bright red emerged from the dead skulls eyes, the mouth opening showing off the shining, sharp metal teeth. The change happened in the blink of an eye, Dante’s body pulsing with a power that even Vergil could feel. His brother turned, facing the downed man, as his body flashed, being overcome by a glowing red light. The light engulfed the half-demon’s body, bringing about the repressed powers that he refused to accept in the first place. In a flash, the half-demon stood. The light dispelled from around his body, but that didn’t mean that his now armored body didn’t have the red moving along it.

His body was armored in black and red. The red seemed to be the more dominate coloring in his body, however. His body glowed with that power-radiating light, his form menacing to the human eye. The deep crimson color ran over his arms and the bottoms of his legs, from the knee down. Black filled in the remaining areas, along with silver on his stripes on his chest. On his lower abdomen and to the knees, the black and red stripes switched off; red for an inch or so, then black, and so on. The face of the devil was black, with silver on top, and silver horns emerging from the sides of his head, hanging down past his shoulders. The eyes of a golden pigment stared out, pupil-less in form, but all seeing in the end.

The transformed half-demon stood, facing the brother that tried to end his life. From the expression that crossed his twin’s features for a moment, Dante could tell that the half-demon was surprised, but the face returned to its normal state of emotionless and unreadable. Clenching his black clawed hands, Dante took a step forward, the longer, black toe nails scraped against the stone that rested below him. The deep black wings that rested behind him twitched, the emerging bone structure catching the light. So it seemed that the thoughts of Cain and Abel had yet to be resolved; but they never would be in the long run.

Dante stood upright, the power radiating off of his body. Cracking some of his bones, he looked to his brother, measuring him up. Vergil didn’t seem too particularly tough, but looks were deceiving, especially in the ways of demons. And no one could even imagine the sins that would take place in the pits of Hell this one night. Light shines brightest in the natural twilight.

The challenge was still issued; the battle unresolved. Ever watching his twin, Dante moved over to Rebellion, grabbing the handle to the awakened blade. He held the sword, the power reverberating through his demonic form. Was this what power had to offer? He wasn’t too impressed in the long run, even though it felt good to shed the human form and release his true nature. This was only temporary, however. That much, the half-demon knew. He would never be a demon, or at least never a full demon. He would take his human heart and embrace it.

This had to be ended. It had to be ended soon. It was time. With new found strength, Dante held his sword, ready for the finale. It was a battle of beliefs, a battle of faith. Only one could be victorious, and even with the new power, he couldn’t compare completely to his brother. His brother was trained, refined in the art. It was a losing battle all around.

Even when Dante charged his brother, he knew it was over. You couldn’t hold it against someone for trying hard. That is what the transformed half-demon did: He tried. He ran at Vergil, watching his twin’s movements, and moving with them. Like an elegant, deadly dance, without touching, without purpose. They moved at each other, each taking of more power from the other. It couldn’t last.

Dante moved forward, his brother disappearing. The transformed half-demon stopped, looking around, alert. It was hard to find a target that moved fast, especially to untrained senses. He sidestepped; only to get stabbed through from behind. Arching his body from the force, he hissed out, blood leaving through the newly inflicted wound. “Vergil…”

“Dear brother, allow me to show you true power.” Vergil whispered into his ear, pushing Yamato in farther. Dante was basically pinned against a wall, his body pressed against it, the blade embedded into the rock before him. He couldn’t move most of his body, though he was able to clench his black hands. Growling loudly, the red energy circled around him, his brother’s weight and scent pushed onto him.

“True power…?” Dante asked, his voice sounding foreign even to himself. It was new, something he would have to adjust too if he ever was able to use his Devil Trigger again. Words only meant things to people who cared, and interpreted them in the same way. Words meant different things to everyone, and the statement ‘true power’ could mean any number of things.

“Yes Dante. The power that you will never obtain.” His brother hissed to him, pushing the katana in more, up to the hilt. He felt the pressure ease up, the sword not tearing so much into his back. He thought his brother was retreating, leaving this to be settled another day.

Feeling hands grip at this shoulders, Dante blinked as he was moved and slammed against the ground, his stomach hitting the cold stone below him. True power was absolute, and not to be questioned. The blade was moved out of his body, the reddish black liquid dripping onto the floor. He didn’t know how long he could hold his trigger, it was getting harder to keep focus.

His arms were grabbed, then stabbed into the wall that rested before him, right through the wrists. At least he was part demon, so it would all heal in due time. That was the only plus to a situation like this. He heard shuffling behind him, it sounded like the ruffling of cloth, but he couldn’t get a good view, no matter how he turned his head. Dante started to struggle against the blade that was embedded in his wrists, the wings rolling off his back and hitting the floor.

Warm hands grabbed his sides, lifting them up slightly from the stone ground below him. He didn’t know what to make of this, considering Vergil’s only weapon was shoved into his arms. Not unless his brother had grabbed Rebellion, but he doubted that Vergil would use the weapon. He shifted uneasily, the pulsating light around him waxing and waning with each second. He was moved and held still, his brother moving over his body. His twin’s weight fell on him again, Dante’s wings twitching uncomfortably. He felt the hands move over his ass, before spreading it wide. This was getting weird… Something hard pushed against him, the half-demon holding his breath. He knew where this was going.

Vergil then shoved his cock up his brother’s ass, moaning out as the heat hit his body, the hues of an icy blue pigment closing. A soft groan escaped the pale lips as the man moved, hands wandering over the body below him, leaving nothing untouched. The emotions flowed through him, the heat immense and welcoming. It made one yearn for more of the sin against God, but one did not listen to the teachings of the Bible. It was sad to think about in the long run, but it only made the act that much more enjoyable, inviting, enticing. No one could deny the pleasure that took over the body, the feelings flowing through the veins. It was bliss, plain and simple, no other words needed to describe the actions. Actions didn’t need justification; not when they were like this. There was nothing more to be said, only that this was what it should have been. There was nothing wrong… Or so they believed. But, what was really right or wrong? Did people really need to do something for some rhyme or reason? Wasn’t pleasure the greatest reasoning in the world? They were only animals; animals driven by the most basic of needs: survival. Survival and reproduction, even if this act was not to allow such a thing, the body didn’t care, it only yearned for more.

A shocked gasp escaped the transformed half-demon, feeling the long, hardened organ penetrate deep into his body. The member tore some of the internal walls, blood shifting around inside of him. It moved with the pushing and pulling action of the thrusts. The walls inside moved around the shape of the cock, trying to accommodate to the size and thickness off the intrusion. The walls stretched and contracted, the member moving in and out. It went in deeper with each thrust, the wet sounds filling the air around them.

At least someone was getting a rise out of this. Dante could hear his brother moaning softly above him, keeping the pace rough and fast. Maybe this was the essence of demonic copulation. The pain wasn’t all that uncomfortable, and his body seemed to adjust quickly to the intrusion. It was almost strange how he was basically reacting to getting fucked by his twin, by his mirror image. If that wasn’t narcissistic, then nothing was. He felt like he had masochistic qualities: He accepted the pain and seemed to get off on it even.

The transformed demon started to pant softly, the friction caused from his brother’s body moving over him heating his glowing body up. Blood continued to drip down his arms, though he pressed himself against the stone wall before him, his pupil-less orbs slipping closed. He would never admit that this felt good, or that he wanted more.

The grip on his body seemed to get tighter, the feelings intensifying. His limp member started to twitch, but he wouldn’t allow the feelings to overcome him. He pushed the feelings away, letting the pounding into his armored body continue. His brother went in deep, deeper than the half-demon would have thought. The head of the hardened organ brushed against the bundles deep inside of him, causing a moan to escape him. He couldn’t hold it, it was too hard. This was one of the biggest taboos, one of the biggest sins against Humanity. The feelings seemed to drive him wild and excite him, bringing about a new range of things he could barely understand. The sounds filled his mind, the unmistakable sound of flesh slamming into flesh fresh in his mind.

It was hard to deny the want, hard to pretend nothing was happening. It might have been unwanted, but the body adjusted, the body remembered. Even as his hold on his demonic form wavered, he continued to be manipulated by his brother’s wants, by what his brother’s body wanted. Maybe they were the same in that aspect as well, but they wouldn’t tell. It wasn’t for them to admit, even though sins were what demons did best.

As fast as it had started, it seemed to end. He felt his brother pound into him, the sweat rolling down his body. The smell of sex rose around them, even the smell of sweat. Their sweat mixed together, dripping down his body and onto the bloody floor below him. Vergil moved, and he felt the erect organ inside of him swell, stretching him more beyond what should have been. The half-demon hissed out, opening the icy orbs, and looking to the wall before him. Another moan left him, feeling the pre-fluids leaking into his body, slicking the swollen cock to make it slide easier.

The blade started to dig more into his wrists, gravity starting to pull his body down, and ripping the flesh more. His breathing picked up, heart beat accelerating as he was fucked harder, if even possible, his body conforming. It was all coming to an end, though. Even against his wants, his brother stopped suddenly, pressing his head into the half-demon’s neck. Vergil came hard inside of him, the fluids splashing out of the slit in the head, and moving around inside of him. His brother pulled out almost immediately, and the sound of clothing shuffling greeted him once more. Then, the weight on his body was lifted, Dante turning his head to face his twin. He watched the man dress, glaring at him faintly.

Vergil reached over, grabbing the handle of Yamato and yanking it out of his wrists. Dante slid down, his hands numb from the treatment. He continued to bleed, laying on the ground, the pulsating red light around his body waning. His transformation faltered, and he ended up turning back into his human form, his hair plastered to his face. Again, the sound of footsteps assaulted his ears, seeming to be louder than anything else around him. In the distance, he could hear his brother speak, “only the strong survive, Dante.”

**Author's Note:**

> Something written awhile ago. Posted here for archive purposes.


End file.
